


Gardening with Undyne

by morefishplease



Series: Comfy Fish Stories [56]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Gardens & Gardening, Teasing, cactus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morefishplease/pseuds/morefishplease
Summary: What it says in the title. Due to having originally been written and posted for a different site most of my stories' titles are just descriptions of the story, and I'm too lazy to make up meaningful titles for everything.





	Gardening with Undyne

“Can you pass me the trowel?”

“Which one is it?”

“That one,” Undyne points. “The one that looks like a little baby shovel.”

You pass it to her, stand up, wipe the sweat from the back of your neck. You mean to survey the little garden you and Undyne have carved out in the side yard but somehow your eyes get stuck halfway over, past the row of rutabagas, past the three shrunken tomato plants you’ve been stubbornly trying to cultivate, right on the sliver of blue visible between Undyne’s shirt and shorts as she bends over, carefully transfers the little cactus into the garden.

“I think he’ll get a lot more sun out here,” she says, glancing up at the sky, the rim of her straw hat bobbing with the light breeze. The way the light makes the sweet, soft angles of her face bloom like flowers makes you bite your lip, lean back against the house, watch her for a moment. She has her hair tucked back, curling snakelike around her neck in a lazy braid. Part of it has worked loose up near her scalp and as you watch she pouts, glaring at it, tries to puff it out of her face, then after a few tries just grabs it, sticks it behind her ear. You know it’ll fall out a moment later but for the time being she can forget about it. She wipes her hands on her shorts, squints down the road. She has lovely cheekbones, you think, eyes roaming over her fine fine face, over her soft lips and watery eyes, down her neck, corded with delicate muscle, triple-slits of her gills drinking in the air quietly, bulging outward as she breathes.

“What?” Undyne asks, and you look up, meet her gaze. She’s raised a quizzical eyebrow, allowed a small smile to flicker across her lips before she clamps her brow into a frown, purses her lips at you. She can’t hold it, though, and the corner of her lip twitches before you both burst into helpless laughter. She reaches across, punches your thigh. “You’re a dork,” she says, warm affection curling around her words like smoke, and you reach down, knit your fingers into her hair, scratch lightly, like she were a dog. Undyne bows her head, crinkles her eyes, lets out a light breathy ngaaah~ as you hit the exact spot she likes. Then she shakes her head, punches you again, pulls you down next to her. You reach out, poke the tiny cactus Undyne was in the middle of transplanting. She smooths the soil out, glances over at you.

“Watering can?”

“Big one or little one?”

She rolls her gleaming eyes. “The little one, duh. I don’t want to drown him!”

As you go and get it from the basket, you ask Undyne what she decided his name was again. Undyne groans, flashes a venomous stare at you. You meet her eyes, gaze back innocently, lean in and kiss her right where her nose would be as you hand her the can. She blushes, suddenly becomes very busily engaged with watering the cactus.

“Clyde,” she tells you. “His name is Clyde.”

“Are you sure? I seem to remember you calling him something else just a few days ago…” you tease, watching Undyne roll her eyes again, smile in spite of herself.

“Well, his name is Clyde now,” she tells you. “I might have…forgotten,” she admits, “but it’s Clyde.” She raises her eyebrow, realizes her own store of ammunition is right there next to her. “So, how about those tomatoes of yours?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you groan, kneeling next to her. Try as you might the tomatoes have simply not wanted to live. One plant is dead entirely, and the other two are on their last proverbial legs. All the plant has had to offer so far was a single brilliant-red cherry tomato, which Undyne plucked and ate right in front of you the other day, trying to tease you. The look of hurt on your face was altogether unexpected and she’d been mopey for the rest of the day until she’d plucked up the courage to ask you about it and the two of you ended up collapsing into bed together, your arms locked tight around Undyne’s waist, giggling because of how stupid it was.

“On the bright side,” Undyne says, poking you with her elbow, “that one tomato was pretty good.”

“Shut up,” you tell her, pretending to pout, and she leans in, kisses you on the cheek. You can feel the imprint of her hot lips on your skin and you smile in spite of yourself.

“It’s okay,” she says. “My rutabagas are almost ready. That’s almost the same thing.”

“That isn’t the same thing at all!”

“Says you,” Undyne quips primly, inspecting the rutabaga in question. “I think I’ll cook you tonight,” she coos, leaning over it, starting to dig it out of the ground.

“Thank goodness you don’t talk to me like you talk to your food.”

“I could start,” she offers, and you roll your eyes, lean in and kiss her, and now it is Undyne blushing, and somehow you know it has nothing to do with the heat.

**Author's Note:**

> Fairly standard story, and the cactus makes a return. Not a lot to say about this one, just a low-stakes cute story. 
> 
> When I was a kid my dad would always try to garden in our back yard. He would always try and grow tomatoes and they would never, ever grow. I don't know hardly anything about gardening, but a little detail like that can go a long way in either patching over your own ignorance or making a scene more believable.


End file.
